


it's not easy facing up when your whole world is black

by ellenuiene



Series: you take a pride in making me blue [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Gets a Hug, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Swears A Lot, Bucky Barnes is Whipped, Bucky's waxing poetry about Sam in his head, Episode: s01e01 New World Order (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier), Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Bucky Barnes, Pining, Sam Wilson Is Persistent, Sam Wilson is So Done, Self-Indulgent, i have no idea that this is, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 23:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30147069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellenuiene/pseuds/ellenuiene
Summary: “Yeah, sure. I’ll annoy you to the point where you will run away and won’t come back,” he lowered his hands and stood up instantly feeling cold where Sam’s knee touched his. He forgot about that and now was painfully reminded of his own patheticfulness. That wasn’t even a word, huh.Maybe he was really losing his shit.“Good luck with that, Buck.”or: bucky's very confused, oblivious (by choice) and sam has beautiful eyelashes
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, pre James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Series: you take a pride in making me blue [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2221743
Comments: 6
Kudos: 252





	it's not easy facing up when your whole world is black

**Author's Note:**

> i was so excited to watch tfatws that I almost threw up before that but hours later here we are  
> my biggest dream before the show came out was that they show us more of sam, more of his family and his relationships and also explore bucky's trauma more in-depth and actually send that man to therapy and so far it's looking good!!  
> i also loved bucky's therapist because i think that he needs someone who takes none of his bullshit and is actually determined to help him  
> I don't know what's happening here because this idea just popped into my head, i sat down and wrote it and i'm not gonna lie i really enjoyed it  
> Title from Hidden Citizens – Paint It Black  
> enjoy!!

It was annoying. Or at least it was supposed to be and he tried to convince himself that it was but lying to himself these days was three times harder than lying to someone else. Not that he had many people he could lie to.

He was still confused about how to use his phone but despite Wilson‘s messages which mocked him for not knowing how to write back he knew how to do that. He just didn‘t want to and _that_ was the difference. His phone vibrated in his pocket for the third time in a row and he was glad that it was vibrating instead of letting out a loud and chirpy noise which always got him dirty looks in public spaces as if that was not normal. Everyone had phones these days, what‘s so wrong with all of the sounds which came from them? The truth is it took him an embarrassing amount of time to figure out how to turn it off and change it to vibration just so he could hear and feel it against his side whenever Wilson messaged him. Not that he would ever admit that.

Bucky knew that the weather was not warm outside – it was dark even though it was noon and the pavement was wet from the morning rain. He wore a jacket even though it was too tight and uncomfortable around his shoulders and arm but he didn‘t want to get even more dirty looks by walking only in a sweater when everyone else was huddling up in jackets and even scarves. People were ridiculously sensitive.

A guy walking in front of him on a busy sidewalk was stepping around all of the puddles of water on the dirty pavement but Bucky was walking as if he was taking a stroll in the park. He didn’t care if he splashed water on his boots or the ends of his jeans. At least that would maybe make him feel something even if it was something as unpleasant as wet socks and jeans. _God_ , being old made him sad. Or maybe it was all of the unresolved trauma as his therapist put it. He didn’t like to think about all of that and the idea of opening up about it made him want to reach down his throat and pull out his intestines even if it was mandatory. So, he was also dramatic. _Great_.

Once Bucky felt a couple of raindrops hit his forehead he barely glanced at the dark clouds before slipping into an alleyway between two buildings opposite the street where his apartment was. Letting his shoulder rest against a wall, near the trash, he pulled out his hands from the pockets of his jacket. As he got his phone out of his pocket the rain started to hit the metallic roof over his head harder and maybe he regretted not having run towards his apartment because now even if he rushed he would still get soaking wet.

But he didn’t want to step into the building and show someone where he lived if someone was watching the surroundings. Call him paranoid, but he had a plausible excuse, so _fuck you_.

Bucky glanced at his phone screen and frowned at the five messages waiting for him. All from the same contact. He looked up and let his eyes carefully scan his surroundings and all of the people running or hiding under umbrellas or roofs just like him. Everything seemed dull and bright at the same time like every other day.

 **Wilson** : _did you break your phone_ (thursday, 5:06 am)

 **Wilson** : _can you even touch the screen with metal_ (thursday, 7:17 am)

 **Wilson** : _i know where you live don’t make me come_ (thursday, 10:44 am)

 **Wilson** : _you brought this on yourself_ (thursday, 11:16 am)

 **Wilson** : _where the fuck are you_ (thursday, 12:46 pm)

Bucky’s frown deepened. He closed his phone and stuffed it back into his pocket together with his hands. He didn’t know what Sam meant and he didn’t want to find out. He liked Sam just fine but he didn’t necessarily want to befriend the guy. He reminded him of Steve and thinking of him just hurt. That plain, boring, and old pain in his chest and it didn’t bother him until Sam left him with fifteen messages in a row which varied from two am to eight pm. He didn’t message him every day, just every other day.

The sole idea that maybe Sam worried wanted to make him throw up in his mouth a little. He wasn’t feeling sentimental and he certainly didn’t want to think about it.

Realizing that rain’s not going to stop anytime soon or stop the exact moment when he stepped into his apartment he shrugged his shoulders higher, hunched in on himself, and started walking. His therapist probably wouldn’t approve of him casually walking through the busy street with a shit ton of cars coming from every direction but he didn’t care. It’s not like getting hit by a car will kill him or anything.

He ran up the stairs while pulling his hands out of his pockets together with his keys. Bucky shook his head trying to shake out all of the rainwater and almost sneezed when some of it got into his nose. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he actually sneezed. _Huh_.

As he reached his floor Bucky stopped abruptly and stared at the man leaning on the wall next to his door. Wilson was completely dry and had one of his hands in the pocket of his jacket while the other held his phone. Bucky took a little step back and almost missed a stair which would have been embarrassing. Falling of the stairs once he saw the guy he has been avoiding for months.

He shouldn’t feel guilty about that. He didn’t owe Sam anything even if the guy is literally the only thing he has left, genuinely tried to make a conversation with him numerous times when they still met up after the whole mess with the blip before Bucky split and didn’t come back and maybe worried about him given the amount of ignored, read and unanswered messages in his phone. It didn’t matter that he wanted to message him back and almost did a couple of times and read every single message. Some of them even made him smile. _Fuck_.

“What the fuck?” his voiced irritation finally attracted attention as Sam lifted his head and lowered his phone. He tried not to stumble down the stairs because again, _that would be embarrassing_ , as the other man pushed back from the wall and took a couple of steps towards him. He forgot how wide and intimating Wilson could look when he stared him down with that distasteful look of his and it didn’t help the situation that he was a few stairs down and he was looking down on him.

“I warned you,” Sam waved his phone before pocketing it and crossing his hands at his chest. Bucky _didn’t_ lower his gaze and narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah, like five minutes ago. Give a guy time to get prepared for an ambush,” he finally swallowed loudly and stepped up those two steps before brushing past Wilson while trying not to touch him which resulted in some weird shimmy move but he wasn’t going to bother himself with that thought. Once Bucky reached his door he forced his key into the lock a bit forcefully and hoped that he didn’t ruin it because that meant calling somebody who could fix or change that and he certainly didn’t know whether he was capable of finding out how to do that.

“So you read my messages. I was starting to think that you were either dead, dropped off the face of the earth, or just didn’t know how to open them,” Sam followed him into the small apartment and closed the door behind himself with a quiet click. Bucky dropped his keys on the small cabinet which was the only thing in the corridor. He didn’t have furniture – he didn’t even have a bed but he also wouldn’t use one even if he had it so he didn’t waste the money. It was supposed to be a good habit as far as he was concerned.

“It didn’t occur to you that maybe I don’t want to answer?” he turned around just to see how Wilson with his arms still crossed against his chest leaned against the wall. His eyes scanned the small space before settling on him.

“Since you didn’t answer me for two months, how about you tell me how are you doing now?” Sam was staring at him.

It was unsettling at first but he didn’t back down even when he felt like his skin’s heating up underneath the jacket and his shirt. The other man lifted his eyebrows like he was expecting an answer from him or something so Bucky acted like an adult or an old guy, which _he was_ , and rolled his eyes while turning away from him. He pulled his gloves off and dropped them on the couch before unzipping his jacket and taking it off too. Just from that alone, he felt better because he could finally move freely without fear of ripping the leather material.

“So you’re gonna play the silent game, huh?” why the hell Sam wasn’t backing out and leaving his apartment was beyond him. It’s not like he wanted him to leave but that would certainly make him feel better because he couldn’t look in his direction without a tint of shame which he was sure would reflect on his face.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” Bucky dropped down on the couch and rested his elbows on his knees before finally looking back at Sam through his lashes. The other man pushed off the wall and followed his example by dropping down near him. The couch was small enough that their knees touched once Sam spread his legs a little as he leaned on the back of the couch. Bucky had to squeeze his fingers into fists to stop himself from jumping off the couch at the speed of lighting. _Fuck, fuck_.

“Yeah, I do. But I was also worried you’re losing your shit here so here I am,” he shrugged as if it was that simple. And maybe it was for him.

Bucky stared at him for a moment forgetting why it was so difficult just a minute ago. His brain still didn’t comprehend the whole idea that Wilson was sitting in his apartment and looking at him like he actually cared. He turned his eyes away and tried to ignore the feeling of those eyes covered by long and curled lashes drilling holes into his face.

“I’m okay. I go to therapy and I’m making amends, so you can go and I can continue to ignore you until you lose hope and give up,” he murmured and ran his fingers through his hair which was still damp but at least it didn’t drip on the floor. He frowned once his right hand came back wet and with an even bigger frown wiped it on his jeans. His ears picked up on the sound of Sam snickering and he lifted his gaze.

“Amends, huh.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned that. But it’s been a while since he had an opportunity to make an actual choice himself and making such a stupid mistake felt weirdly good. Maybe his therapist was right. Partly. He was free to do whatever and fucking up was his obvious path. He wasn’t even surprised.

“You look like a wet dog. How about you clean up and I order pizza and you can tell me about your amends?”

What the hell.

Bucky frowned. He did frown a lot, didn’t he. He wondered if he could still get wrinkles or if his butchered-up version of the serum will take care of that. He didn’t particularly care considering the fact that he was hundred and six years old so having a couple of wrinkles wouldn’t come as a surprise. He had to bite his own tongue before he asked Sam’s opinion on this. The guy, who was still staring at him intensely to the point where the back of his neck flushed and maybe he shouldn’t have cut his hair because Sam could definitely see it, would probably run away. Or maybe not since he’s so persistent.

He didn’t want Sam to leave. Since then socializing is this difficult? Fuck, he was pathetic.

Bucky ran both palms down his face, not enjoying the colder feel of the vibranium on his face, but not showing it.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll annoy you to the point where you will run away and won’t come back,” he lowered his hands and stood up instantly feeling cold where Sam’s knee touched his. He forgot about that and now was painfully reminded of his own patheticfulness. _That wasn’t even a word, huh_.

Maybe he was really losing his shit.

“Good luck with that, Buck,” that almost made him stop and turn around on his walk towards the bathroom door but as a person with willpower, he continued and reached the door without tripping over his own feet. Once he turned the light on and slipped inside, Bucky let out a loud breath and didn’t even care if Sam heard it.

A couple of nights ago, as his fingers typed back a reply to Sam’s message about something his sister, Sarah, said to him which he never sent because it had Becca’s name in it and it hurt more than ever, he wondered why the hell he stopped answering his calls and started ignoring his messages. But now he was painfully reminded because Sam fucking Wilson was sitting on his stupid couch, ordering pizza of all things, with determination bigger than Steve’s, _ouch_ , and he looked beautiful with his jeans and dark brown jacket and his lashes were dark, almost as dark as his bright and big eyes, and they were long and cast deep shadows onto his skin when his eyes were closed, and they curled at the very ends, and Bucky was fucked.

He splashed cold water onto his face and ran his wet right hand on the back of his neck which was still flushed silently cursing to himself. As he turned off the water and grabbed the towel to dry both his face and hair he looked into the mirror. His eyes were sunken in a bit but that was the result of his recently reoccurring memory slash nightmare and he wasn’t surprised. Maybe that’s how the therapist knew that he was lying. The idea that she caught him because he looked like shit but not because she could tell his tells comforted him. Maybe he shouldn’t feel proud of being a supposedly good liar.

The only people he couldn’t lie to were Becca and Steve and now Sam. Sam who was probably sitting on his couch and he was still standing in his bathroom with a towel in his hand and staring at his reflection in the mirror. Bucky hang up the towel and walked out of the bathroom without another glance at the mirror and closed the door silently after himself while turning off the light.

Part of him wished that once he walked out Sam would be gone and he would be all alone again and he squished that part once he caught sight of the man still sitting on his couch but this time without the jacket which was draped over the back of it. Why the hell was he wearing a short-sleeved shirt when everybody else outside was wearing a couple of layers of clothing was beyond him but he didn’t complain. He was a bit worried about how those arms are going to look up close but that was the problem for the time where he managed to move from his spot near the empty kitchen counter.

“You know I wondered how you touch the screen with that hand of yours but turns out you have a brick for a phone. Convenient,” Sam waved his phone which he probably grabbed from his jacket’s pocket and Bucky wanted to feel annoyed that he was digging through his stuff because that’s the first time in almost ninety years that he actually has belongings but he couldn’t when Sam was looking at him with a smile which probably should have looked mocking but didn’t. It looked rather fond or maybe Bucky was being delusional, as always.

He didn’t answer just walked back towards the couch only now realizing that the TV was turned on on the same channel he left the night before but a different game. Bucky collapsed onto the other side of the couch and tried to shut his stupid overly loud brain as he sank low enough so he could put his head on Sam’s shoulder.

He could feel how the body beneath his froze for a second, stiffened like a brick before relaxing. Sam dropped his phone onto the cushion between them and let out a quiet sigh.

“Thanks, I guess,” Bucky murmured under his breath as his eyes tracked the players on the screen without focus. Sam’s shoulder was bulky and not really comfortable but he wouldn’t give it up for anything at that moment.

“For what?” his eyes slipped closed for a second and he thought that he imagined how Sam turned his head slightly to the left and let Bucky’s messy and a bit curled from the moisture and the heat of the apartment hair tickle his skin.

“For being fucking annoying and not giving up.”

And if at the end of the night, with two half-empty pizza boxes on the kitchen counter, a couple of beer bottles standing near the sofa on the ground, Sam’s arm wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders while they watched whatever movie was playing on the screen and he actually turned his head and half-buried his face in that dark hair Bucky was happy to pretend it didn’t happen because he was already half asleep and it must have been his imagination.

Or maybe he actually lost the last of his marbles.

**Author's Note:**

> your kudos and comments are appreciated!  
> this work is the lowkey version of random stuff which is constantly going through my head during the day so sorry if it was out of character  
> thanks for reading!!


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